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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26455171">best of wives and best of women</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dialogue Prompts [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hamilton - Miranda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Canon Era, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Minor Character Death, One Shot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:01:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,038</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26455171</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliza wakes to an empty bed.</p><p>Or,</p><p>A retelling of the morning of the Burr-Hamilton Duel.</p><p>Dialogue Prompt: "Please, just stay a little longer."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dialogue Prompts [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1920817</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>best of wives and best of women</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this one felt so emotional wtf.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Eliza frowned, waking to an empty bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She glanced outside the window, the moon still in the sky, Alexander couldn’t have left for work yet. He couldn’t be sleeping in his office, she distinctly remembered falling asleep with arms wrapped around her torso. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grabbed the candle from her bedside, lighting it quickly before walking through the quiet house in search of her husband. She walked down the stairs, careful not to slip over the hem of her nightgown, she’d seen her daughters make the mistake too many times before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alexander had grown predictable in their marriage as she spotted light emitting from the first place she’d guessed, his office. She sighed, using the candle to light her path towards the room, the only noise was the quick scratches of her husband’s quill. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The green of the walls was bright, even in the dark lighting. Alexander had insisted on the bright colour for his office, spending a horrendous amount of money on paint alone. The colour was expensive because of the copper used to create it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alexander had always loved green, he’d spend his first shillings from Washington on a velvet green waistcoat. Eliza had an inkling it stemmed from the financial insecurity of childhood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alexander had always thought less of himself because of his origins. Eliza thought that his origins made his achievements more impressive. He was able to rise to the highest point in society without outside help. Of course, Alexander had always felt the need to prove his wealth to himself and the public. Green had just been an easy vehicle for his message.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alexander was hunched over his desk and a piece of parchment. He was wearing a black waistcoat, something he usually reserved for work. Ever since Philip’s death, he’d swapped his jewel tones for deep blacks. For a while, Eliza had done the same. Her little Eliza had begun complaining about her dark colours and of course she’d complied. Recently, she’d been swapping in some blues in an attempt to lighten her wardrobe for her daughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If she looked closely, she spotted his nicest vest and linen shirt. Odd, he rarely wore them. If he did, it was never meaningless, always for some sort of occasion. His cravat was tied in a hasty knot and his glasses rested on the tip of his nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alexander?” her husband’s head whipped towards her at the sound of her voice. She frowned as she noticed him covering what he’d been writing out of her sight, tucking it under another piece of parchment. Her husband had never been one for secrets, well exhibited by the damned pamphlet. For him to hide something so quickly, worried her greatly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Betsey my dear,” Alexander said, “What are you doing up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could ask you the same thing,” she said, walking into the office, "What is that you’re working on?” She walked towards him, leaning over in hope of getting a glance at his writings. Of course, alexander was too quick, blank pieces of parchment already covering his work. She rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merely some notes,” he said, waving her off, “I have an early meeting out of town.” She frowned, glancing out the window. Alexander’s office was one of the front-most rooms in the house, facing the street. If she looked outside, the streets were empty of all but a few New Yorkers, most of them working to clean the streets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s still dark outside,” she said, she glanced at the clock. “Alexander, it’s the middle of the night. Surely the notes can wait until the morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This meeting’s at dawn,” Alexander said, “I have to take a boat’s journey to New Jersey, I must leave soon.” He sighed. “What ails you, Betsey?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I awoke to an empty bed,” she said, “I missed your company.” Alexander softened, rising from his chair. She’s let him back into her bed only a few months back, bad had already grown accustomed to him warming her side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last few months had reminded her of the first months of their marriage. Alexander had made more time for her, she always fell asleep at his side and awoke with his arms still wrapped around her. Of course, most things had changed since the beginning of their marriage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alexander was only a man and was not unaffected by the effects of time. His hair was a soft gray instead of its once fiery auburn shade. There were deep lines around his eyes and his mouth and smaller ones on his forehead. He was just as handsome, she was just as taken with him as she’d been the evening they’d met.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, Eliza was not immune to the passage of time. She was aware of her own faults. Her graying hair, the growing lines around her eyes, the softness of her stomach and the lines decorating her midsection. The latter two were, of course, an unavoidable consequence of bearing their children. She’d never regret their children, even if it destroyed her body to do so/</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I apologize for stirring you,” Alexander said, stroking her face with his hand. His eyes stared at her. Those were one of the only things that hadn’t changed, his cornflower blue colour as bright as ever, still managing to take her apart in a single glance. “I had no intention to.” She glanced back at his desk, frowning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you write like you’re running out of time?” she muttered, pointing vaguely at his desk. “This meeting can’t possibly be more important than your sleep. Come back to bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid it is,” Alexander said, “These letters- ah well, I’ll tell you at a later date, once both of us have had more rest. They’re not so important that you should continue to sacrifice your own well-being. Go back to sleep, my dove.” He sighed. His eyes flitted back towards his work and across his desk. She followed his gaze, staring at the piles of parchment. They hadn’t been there when she’d gone to sleep last night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long have you been working?” she asked, “That’s a new stack of letters.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not too long,” Alexander said vaguely, “Nothing to worry about my dear.” Eliza sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come with me,” Eliza said, grabbing his hand from her face and holding it gently, “You can attend to these later. Sleep by my side, that would be enough.” Alexander softened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I can’t,” he mumbled, “If I would, I could.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can,” she countered, “Just lay down with me, for a couple of minutes? Nothing here is so important that it can’t wait a couple of minutes, yes?” Alexander glanced back at his work and then the clock, hanging off of his study wall. Its hand resting on the first hour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose a couple of minutes couldn’t hurt,” he said, “Lead me to your bed-chamber, m’lady?” He licked his fingers, extinguishing the flame quickly. His eyes sparkled with a playfulness reminiscent of their courtship. She cherished those memories, it was a simpler time. Before their children, before the debt plan, before the damned pamphlet. Everything had been easier, simpler.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, good sir,” Eliza said, equal lightness in her voice, “Just this way. We mustn't be too loud, my parents sleep in the chamber across from my own.” Alexander laughed lightly, letting her drag him to the staircase. Eliza held the candle in one hand, and Alexander's hand in the other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you help me with my skirt?” she asked, “I wouldn’t want to trip.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Alexander muttered, lifting the fabric just over her feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walked up the staircase in relative silence, careful not to wake the children. Little Philip’s nursery was the first room on the left when you reached the top of the staircase. Angelica and Eliza’s rooms were tucked to the right. John, Junior, and James’s rooms lined the left wall. Finally, the master bedroom sat at the end of the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Alexander reached across from her, opening the door for the two of them. Eliza placed the candle on the dresser, blowing out the flame. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room was lit by the moon, shining its light through the window. Alexander’s grey hair shined silver in its light, giving him an ethereal glow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The brightness of your cheeks shame the stars,” Alexander muttered, holding her close. He rested his forehead on hers, their noses touching. She blushed, feeling like a maiden once more. Alexander never ceased to amaze her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lay down with me,” she said, pointing at the bed. “If only for a moment.” Alexander complied, shrugging off his waistcoat and placing it on the dresser. He slipped off his shoes, tucking them beneath their chest of drawers. He reached for his cravat, but Eliza stopped him, grabbing his hands before they could begin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Allow me,” she muttered, her delicate fingers pulling at the loose knot. Alexander nodded, before raising his chin to make it easier for her. She undid the knot with practiced ease, her thin fingers working at the fabric. Once she finished, she placed the piece of fabric on the dresser beside them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There,” she muttered, “Very handsome.” She smiled at him, placing a quick kiss on his cheek. His morning scruff tickled her lips pleasantly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” he muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, well you always need my help somehow,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alexander smiled softly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. He stroked her face, his eye flitting across her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re as cute as a bug's ear,” he said softly, “Now, shall we rest? I must be going soon, so I’d rather spend as much time as possible with you, my dearest.” She nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eliza sighed, pulling off the covers and sneaking under the blanket. It was soft, a gift from Junior for their past anniversary. Alexander moved closer to her wrapping his arms around her, She’d always felt safe in his arms. He’d always been able to reassure her that everything would work out. She sighed, holding his hands close to her chest. She rested her head against his chest, tucked under his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From her position, she could feel the strong beating of his heart in his chest. It was steady, reassuring. When Alexander had first arrived home from the war she’d spent many nights falling asleep to his heartbeat, reassuring her that he made it home back to her. She turned her head, resting her ear on the heartbeat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She remembered spending too many nights worried that he’d never come home, that he was already gone and she just hadn’t received the letter yet. So when he made it home, his heartbeat was her favourite sound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beneath her Alexander moved, attempting to leave the comfort of their bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you leaving?” she muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am,” he confirmed. “I love you, Betsey.” He brought her hand to his mouth, kissing it lightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please,” she whispered, “Please, just stay a little longer.” For a moment she saw brief hesitation flit over Alexander’s eyes, hope flaring up in her stomach. He sighed looking down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, my dove,” he whispered. Eliza sighed, trying to ignore the tears welling up in her eyes. “Hey.” He kneeled on the bed, cupping her face with his hand, wiping a stray tear. “Don’t cry my love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it wrong for a wife to want her husband at her side?” Eliza whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not,” Alexander muttered, “But I have to leave, you know that I must.” Eliza nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” she said, “Kiss me one more time?” Alexander smiled softly, bringing her face to his and kissing her tenderly. She sighed softly, melting into the kiss. They separated slowly, their breath intermingling in the early morning. Alexander sighed, stroking her face slowly. He looked oddly sad, but Eliza chalked it up to her own tiredness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Best of wives and best of women,” he muttered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stood up, stepping off the bed. He slipped on his shoes, grabbed his waistcoat and cravat before slipping out of their bedroom. The door closed with a quiet click. Outside the room, Eliza listened as Alexander’s footsteps faded out of earshot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eliza sighed, resting her head on the pillow and falling into a deep sleep.</span>
</p>
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